


Another Life

by SubtextEquals



Category: Spartacus Series (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Reincarnation, Implied/Referenced Abuse, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-07
Updated: 2015-02-07
Packaged: 2018-03-10 23:37:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,133
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3307391
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SubtextEquals/pseuds/SubtextEquals
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>To celebrate Duro and Nasir's graduation from high school, they go with Agron and Spartacus to Rome. While they're there, images and memories haunt them until they piece together the cause-- one that will change their relationships, but most especially Agron and Nasir's.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Another Life

“I swear, Nasir. If you sleep with my brother--”

Nasir adjusted the phone, pressing it to his ear with only his shoulder as he shoved some clothes into his suitcase. “I’m not going to sleep with your brother,” he assured his best friend.

“Imagine how I would feel if I slept with your brother.”

Nasir crinkled his nose at the thought. “Duro, my brother is five years older than you. And married.”

“And I’m straight. It was hypothetical.”

Nasir stared up at the ceiling of his room. He thought of Agron, towering over him, with his green eyes and beautiful smile, with dimples that would make his heart melt if he let it. “I promise I will not sleep with your brother on this trip.”

“On this trip?”

“Ever,” Nasir corrected himself.

“Ever. When you two keep flirting with each other?”

“I don’t flirt back!” Nasir insisted, which was true. Mostly he just stared at Agron after his poor attempts at flirting and blushed. A lot.

“We all know you want--”

“Hey,” Nasir said quickly before Duro finished what was going to be an unwanted statement of the obvious. “I need to pack. I’ll see you at the airport. Bye.”

“Nasir--”

He quickly hung up before Duro could launch into any more lectures about the sanctity of friendship and “bros before hos but not this ho, this ho is my bro. And-- why did I call my brother a ho?’’

Sometimes Nasir was sure he was friends with an idiot. It wasn’t like anything was going to happen. It was two weeks. Two weeks in Rome without supervision, a celebration courtesy of all their families chipping in and giving them one last taste of freedom after they graduated high school and went their separate ways to college.

Though Agron and Spartacus were already in college, being a year older. But they had close ties to Nasir and Duro. Close ties being Spartacus was everyone’s friend and Agron was Duro’s brother. He, along with Duro, had known Nasir since they were kids. Which was why this whole dancing around each other affair they’d had going since high school was really awkward. But not, Nasir was ashamed to admit, entirely unwanted.

Not that anything was going to happen.

Two weeks, he told himself. It was just two weeks and then they’d go back to their lives.

 

“I swear, Agron. If you sleep with my best friend--”

Agron dragged both his suitcase and his brother’s. It had been in an attempt to appease him in the moments before they got inside the airport but Duro wasn’t shutting up.

“You can’t tell me what to do, Duro.”

“Agron, for fuck’s sake. He’s my friend.”

Agron stopped to glare at him. “He’s my friend too.”

Duro stood undaunted and stared back with resolve. “Do you have any idea how weird it will be if my brother fucks my best friend?”

“Oh fuck, will you just give it a rest.” They had just wheeled their bags in and Agron spotted Nasir.

He let go of Duro’s bag immediately and waved. Nasir grinned and waved back, then his hand faltered and he set it back his side quickly. Sure he knew who the culprit was, Agron spared a frown at his brother before rushing over to Nasir. He forgot Duro’s suitcase.

The long flight to Italy would be perfect for him, he was sure. He could sit next to Nasir. They would watch one of those airplane movies. Nasir would fall asleep on his shoulder.

Nasir gave Agron a smaller smile this time. “Are you ready?”

“You couldn’t stop me from going on this flight.”

Nasir waited as he checked in his bags, followed by Duro. As soon as Agron was done, he stepped aside.

“Here, what’s your seat. Let me--”

Agron compared the seats. They were two rows apart.

No, no. That wasn’t right.

“Ah,” Duro looked over at Nasir’s ticket. “We’re next to each other.” He then looked at Agron and grinned.

Agron scowled in response. That little shit…

 

At least Agron was lucky enough to sit next to Spartacus for the flight. He didn’t mind that Agron sulked for the first hour and glared at the seat in front of him as though he could burn holes through two rows of seats and singe some of his brother’s hair. He heard Nasir laugh and knew that a death ray would emerge from his eyes at any moment.

“You have two weeks,” Spartacus told him. He flipped through a book.

“I’m never going to get him away from Duro,” Agron grumbled.

“Have you thought that maybe you shouldn’t piss off your brother?” Spartacus didn’t look up as he spoke.

“Yeah. What’s your point?”

“Just a comment. And Agron, I admire your restraint. If I were gay, I would have already gotten to know Nasir intimately.”

Agron glared at his friend until he looked up.

Spartacus finally met his gaze. “Just a comment.”

Agron rolled his eyes. “Remind me to thank Duro for not letting you get near Nasir during your bicurious phase.”

“I never had a--”

Agron poked at his book. “What is this? Slavery?”

“I’m reading more about--”

Agron withdrew his hand. “The Third Servile War. I had a feeling _Spartacus._ There’s a reason we call you that.”

“Did you read that book on gladiators I gave you?”

“No,” Agron lied.

He’d read the whole book. Then he quietly placed it in Spartacus’s locker, swore never to think of it again, and that was the end of it. He thought.

 

Something indefinable hit Nasir the moment he stepped out of the airport in Rome. He couldn’t pinpoint it beyond it was something familiar. He’d grown up here but he hadn’t. He belonged here only there was a wrongness to that thought that wasn’t solely from knowing he was a foreigner in this country. When he looked at the others, he saw a similarly strange look on their faces, even Spartacus’s.

“Well,” Spartacus said, his voice sounding off. “Let’s get to our hotel.”

Nasir and Spartacus, being the more sensible of the two who had actually dedicated their time to learning some Italian, handled the ride to their hotel and checking in. They had rented one room with two double beds. It wasn’t a cheap hotel and they needed one way to cut back on expenses. Of course, that meant that Nasir would be sharing a room with his best friend, Spartacus, and Agron, who he had promised not to sleep with. The prospect of seeing him changing had dawned on him before, but stepping into the room it struck Nasir as more real.

“Alright Nasir,” Duro said. “We get the one by the window.” He plopped his bag on the bed in question.

Now that Duro had claimed the bed, Nasir set his own bag on the floor by his and Duro’s temporary bed. He bent over to remove his toothbrush. When he stood and turned to the bathroom he caught Agron’s gaze just where his ass had been. Agron quickly looked away until his eyes finally landed on Spartacus.

He cleared his throat. “Where is it we’re going to first?”

Nasir thought back to his promise. This was going to be much more difficult than he thought.

 

Agron had seen pictures of the colosseum before. They’d seemed familiar but he chalked that up to pictures of it being so prevalent in his life, especially with Spartacus’s obsession. But when he saw it in person, walking closer as they waited for the tour to start, the sight nearly knocked the breath from his lungs.

“Damn,” Duro swore.

“Damn,” Agron echoed.

“It is impressive,” Nasir noted, not without wonder, but with significantly less than the two brothers.

The three of them turned on Nasir.

“Impressive? Do you need your eyes checked?” Duro asked.

Agron moved to jab Duro’s side with his elbow but Duro dodged.

“Can’t you see all the fights that must have gone in there? The death, blood, excitement, and the crowd screaming for your blood as you lose your sword and realize there’s nothing…” Duro trailed off.

Everyone had turned to stare at him.

“Why is everyone looking at me?” he asked.

Agron couldn’t vouch for the others, perhaps it was the near manic way that Duro had spoken, his eyes alight with something indefinable. But for him, the stare was prompted by the images that conjured of him and Duro in another time. Vivid, real, terrifying as he turned and saw that Duro was about to be killed so he threw his stolen spear and--

A spray of blood, a victorious cry, but while he’d reveled in the crowd’s cheers moments before he’d had only eyes for his brother then.

“Agron?” Spartacus touched his shoulder.

He blinked. “Sorry, I was just picturing Duro’s dumbass little scenario.”

“The tour’s starting.” Spartacus did a better job at hiding what he was feeling but his excitement, clear in the light of his eyes, flowed over the brim. Agron could feel it pouring into his body from where Spartacus’s hand lay on his shoulder.

As they filed in line, Agron noticed that Nasir kept glancing at him and the others, an odd, almost worried expression on his face.

When they entered the belly of the colosseum, he didn’t look to see how pronounced that worry became. He could feel the tension and anxiety spreading through himself and his brother and friend, feeding off each other as they saw where the animals had been kept and where the gladiators were brought just before a match.

But this wasn’t how he remembered it.

No, he didn’t remember. There was nothing to remember.

“It should have burned…” Spartacus whispered next to him.

Agron turned to face him but his friend said nothing more. Spartacus looked at him. Agron nodded.

“It did, didn’t it? At some point? I think I read somewhere…” That had to account for the images he had of it.

“An arena burned,” Spartacus said. “In Capua, during the--”

“Third Servile War,” Agron finished for him.

He had to ball his hands into fists to keep them from shaking. He pretended to pay attention to the tour guide from then on.

 

By the time they’d returned to their hotel room, having enjoyed what they could of Rome, Nasir noted that the mood was much more subdued than it had been in the colosseum. His friends had vacillated between excited and nervous-- he was hesitant to call it scared. Scared was not a word he associated with them. Yet Agron in particular almost seemed it, glancing at Duro several times. Agron’s brother had remained ignorant but Nasir had not.

He’d also largely been ignored by them for the entire time at the colosseum. He didn’t take it as a slight. It was clear that something was going on, but he couldn’t pinpoint what exactly. Some part of him thought it made sense, that the puzzle was assembled completely in front of him. The problem was that Nasir couldn’t see it.

Just like Agron didn’t see him check him out when he changed. Strong muscles moved as he pulled off his shirt, rippling with ease. His pecs were right at Nasir’s height. He stared until Duro threw a pillow at him. Then, blushing, and after shooting Duro an apologetic glance, he lay down in bed.

“Promise,” Duro reminded him.

“Sorry.”

Those were all the words they exchanged, each of them too tired for much more than brushing their teeth, and falling into bed. But when Nasir dreamed it was of a tent. The smell of Agron’s unwashed scent, mingled with blood, was heavy over him but not as much as the press of his body as they brought their lips together and he moved inside Nasir.

In the morning, nothing remained of the dream but a feeling of unease and lust.

 

They had all visited the pantheon for a time but had quickly become bored, Duro more so than others. There was an undercurrent of frustration as well. Spartacus had even said “this was not what I expected.”

It wasn’t what Nasir had either. He had known it was supposed to be huge but he still felt it should be smaller. He even thought there might be wooden beams where repairs--

That wasn’t right.

What was right was Pompeii. There had been some excitement in the lead up to it. Agron cracked dick jokes in advance, knowing the dead city’s reputation. Eventually Duro had snapped at him to “shut up already. We get it. There are lots of dicks there.”

And there were. Yet what caught his attention was the volcano itself. Vesuvius. Was that how it had always looked? He stared up at the barren top and hunger gnawed at him. He felt a weakness in his bones but also a resolve that followed it, one that could only be from desperation, from someone with nothing left to lose save for his friends and Ag--

“Yes, it’s a volcano. It’s not _that_ special.”

Duro’s voice snapped Nasir out of his trance. He wondered how long he’d been staring at Vesuvius and, looking at Agron and Spartacus, how long they had been as well. Agron look confused, Spartacus determined. As for Nasir, he felt more dazed than anything, especially when he returned his attention to ancient Pompeii.

On the tour, the guide explained things about life in Pompeii that he already knew. They went to brothels and the baths and villas, including a recreated one. It was complete with a pool, but the moment Nasir set foot inside he felt a twist in his stomach.

Everyone walked farther into the place but Nasir stumbled.

There were hands on him, holding him down. Sweat that wasn’t his own covered his body as someone pushed against him.

Nasir reached out for the wall but his hand met someone’s flesh.

“Hey.”

He heard Agron’s voice, felt his arm wrap around his waist to steady him but he flinched from the touch.

“What’s--”

Nasir scrambled out of Agron’s loose grip, risking supporting himself on his own as he tripped over himself in a rush to get out of the villa. He threw up on the small street just outside.

 

Agron would have liked to touch Nasir to keep him on his feet instead of toppling over as his body threatened to do, but each time he reached for Nasir, his friend flinched.

He turned to Spartacus and Duro, who had both followed them outside. “We should get him back to the hotel.”

“I’m here,” Nasir mumbled. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.

“I never said you weren’t," Agron said absently. “I’ll take him.”

“We’ll all go,” Duro insisted.

“No.” Nasir’s voice was faint but he straightened himself. “I’ll go back on my own. Spartacus wants to see Pompeii. He shouldn’t be alone. Don’t worry.”

“Bullshit,” Agron snapped. “I’ll take you. It’s boring as hell here.”

“I’m fi--”

“I’ll take you.” As Duro spoke he grabbed Nasir’s arm to drag him.

Nasir reacted by jerking his arm back and springing away with such force he would have fallen if Agron didn’t catch him. Nasir tensed even more but upon glancing at Agron he relaxed by a fraction. Agron stopped holding Nasir and instead switched to a light touch on his back. That wasn’t rejected either.

“Let’s go.” He shot a look at Duro, daring him to protest but his brother only stared back and said nothing.

 

Nasir was silent on the journey back. He started to retch again and Agron pulled his hair back just in case he vomited. When they made it to their room, Nasir went directly to his bed and lay down on it. Agron, meanwhile grabbed a cup and filled it with water.

“Here.” He sat down next to Nasir, waited until his friend had sat up, and offered him the glass.

“Thanks.” There were small tremors still coursing through Nasir’s body.

“You’re not just sick, are you?” Agron asked quietly.

“I don’t want to talk about it.” Nasir finished his glass and set it on the desk by the bed. He looked down at his shirt, flecked with vomit.

“You’re going to want to change.” Agron commented.

Without warning, Nasir simply pulled his shirt off, kicked it down to the end of the bed, then buried himself beneath the blanket. Agron pulled Nasir’s hair back out of his face. His fingers idly stroked down his locks, weaving between them.

Nasir’s fast breaths gradually slowed as he drifted closer to sleep. “Something’s happening here,” he said softly.

“I know.”

“I thought I remembered…” Nasir trailed off. He never finished.

Agron never pressed for more.

 

They tried to convince Nasir to take at least a day off. For some reason Agron didn’t know but involved architecture and art and something like that, he refused to stay in their room. In spite of that that none of them had enjoyed the Vatican. Even though Nasir asked questions and inspected the place, Agron saw that his gaze was more often than not vacant. He was stiller than usual too, only moving when he had a single destination in mind instead of wandering.

As they walked the streets, he kept falling behind them, not because he was weak but out of some desire Agron didn’t understand. Agron would slow down, Nasir would slow more. It continued until Spartacus turned back and asked if there was a problem. Nasir then kept with their pace.

“Let’s eat here. I’ve heard it’s good,” Spartacus said outside a small restaurant.

“You mean you read so on your phone just now.” That hadn’t escaped Duro’s notice.

“A figure of speech.”

Spartacus, however, seemed to forget all about speech the moment their waitress came into view. She had pale skin with a long but beautiful face and dark, wavy hair. Agron had never seen that kind of smile before. Spartacus probably hadn’t either as he had frozen in place.

Nasir picked up the slack and ordered for them.

“American?” The woman, who had introduced herself as Sura, asked when she heard Nasir’s broken Italian.

“ _Yes._ ” Nasir responded and Agron at least recognized that much of the language.

Sura continued speaking in English. “You’ve been here before.”

“We haven’t,” Spartacus spoke for the first time. “This is our first time.”

“No.” She smiled again. “You’ve been here _before._ ” And with that she disappeared to the kitchen.

“She’s messing with our heads,” Duro muttered.

“Everything’s messing with our heads here.” Agron couldn’t help but answer.

Spartacus was still staring at the direction she’d gone in.

This, Agron figured, was going to make for a long dinner. And it did. Just like when they were exploring the Vatican, they didn’t speak very much aside from halted attempts at conversation. Finally, Sura returned to refill their drinks.

“I knew you’d be here. I saw it in my dreams.”

“You dream about four American guys a lot?” Duro asked.

Nasir shook his head and rested his head against his hand.

“I dream of a man called Spartacus and of a past life far from here.”

Agron looked at his friend and saw his intent gaze rest solely on Sura. His body was straight and tense.

“Do you want answers?” Sura asked him.

“Yes,” Spartacus spoke before the rest of them could.

 

“She’s crazy,” Duro said once they were back in their hotel room. “Spartacus is the real Spartacus? She said she used to know him and then claimed she never met us but that we followed him. It’s a load of shit.”

Nasir had taken a seat on the bed while Agron leaned against the desk, Duro paced, and Spartacus stood still.

But he was the one who spoke. “How else would you explain what has happened? All of us have felt it since we came. Duro. You, Agron, and I all had a reaction to the colosseum. We all saw us fighting there. I know it wasn’t only me.”

Agron and Duro exchanged glances, then Agron nodded. “I saw you,” he said to his brother. “We fought together and--”

“You saved me.” As soon as Duro finished Agron’s sentence he snapped his mouth shut.

“And Nasir, you felt it with Agron and I at the Pantheon. I saw you. Vesuvius, too and when you went in the villa.”

“I know,” Nasir spoke quietly, doing his best to shove back those memories. “I was a slave.”

“You believe this?” Duro scoffed.

Nasir nodded. “I’d rather believe that than we’re all collectively losing our minds.”

“The three of us were gladiators,” Agron said. “Spartacus was a gladiator before he freed the slaves, wasn’t he? It was in that book you gave me.”

One of Spartacus’s eyebrows shot up. “You read it?”

“And wanted to forget about it.”

Duro threw up his hands. “You’re all crazy. I’m taking a shower and going to bed.” He walked into the bathroom and they heard the water running a minute later.

They all looked at each other in silence before Agron got up and started changing. None of them shared the reason why Duro was taking this harder than the others. They all knew anyway. Nasir knew.

He’d never met Duro in his past life.

 

The next day they went out again, sightseeing and trying to distract themselves. That afternoon, Spartacus and Agron broke off to see Sura. Or rather, Spartacus was to see Sura. Agron acted as a bodyguard of sorts. Normally Nasir would have asked why but after the revelation of yesterday, more memories rose to the surface. Some he didn’t want, would never want. Others…

He knew what they used to be to each other. And, when he looked at his best friend’s brother, he saw for the first time more than lust or a crush that wouldn’t go away. Maybe Rome had awakened it or perhaps it had only caused him to recognize it.

“Hey,” Duro’s voice brought him out of his thoughts once they returned to their room. “Let’s talk.”

Nasir took a seat on the bed and Duro sat across from him.

“I talked with Agron.” Duro began. “He says you two used to be lovers.”

“We haven’t--”

“I mean before, in our past lives or whatever you want to call them.” Duro shifted, trying to get his legs positioned right but clearly finding nothing comfortable.

Nasir didn’t see the point of avoiding this or hesitating. “Yes,” he said instead. “We were.”

“He came first then. Sort of.”

“Sort of,” Nasir echoed. “It depends on how you look at it.”

“Yeah, well.” Duro finally stopped moving around. “If you’re still in love after two thousand years I don’t have a right to tell you not to get together.”

For a long moment, Nasir found himself at a loss of what to say. “You’re sure?”

“Yeah. I was being selfish anyway.” He leaned forward and moved to punch Nasir's leg. “Just don’t forget about me.”

Nasir batted his hand away. “You’re still my best friend.” He grinned. “Thank you.”

“Sure.” Duro nodded. “Just don’t tell me any details. I’d rather not know.”

Details. By details he meant making out, sex and-- oh that was going to happen.

Nasir couldn’t quite make out the rest of what Duro said.

 

“I can’t believe it!”

Spartacus sighed as he pulled on his shirt. “Agron, it’s been a day. When will you let this go?”

“ _Castus_ got all the credit for my work. I’m not letting this go!”

Agron spotted Nasir hiding a smile with his hand and scowled. Nasir caught his look and cleared his throat instead.

“That shit. If I meet him again I’m…”

Nasir cut him off. “Agron.”

“Can we move on?” Duro folded his arms over his chest. “I’m sick of talking about it.”

“It was more exciting than our lives now,” Agron spoke.

Duro’s frown did not abate, it only deepened.

Fuck, how were you supposed to talk to a brother who had died for you thousands of years ago? The same way he’d talked to him before. This didn’t change anything it just… He glanced at Nasir. Made things more complicated.

“Duro, can you go with me to see Sura this time? Agron intimidated her.”

Agron snorted. From the short time he’d spent with Sura, he was under the impression that nothing was going to intimidate her, not even meeting with two strange men just outside her restaurant. Or trying to sleep with one, apparently. He wondered if this was a common thing with her.

“Ah--” Duro looked at Nasir and Agron saw them reach some silent understanding and--

Oh, shit. If he agreed, Agron was going to be alone with Nasir.

Duro shrugged. “Alright.” 

Spartacus waited for his friend to get ready. “Now.”

“Now? Oh, now. Alright.”

Agron’s gaze kept flicking to Nasir as his friends got ready but he kept his distance, at least until Spartacus and Duro left. Duro gave them a stunningly awkward and feeble little wave and said “have fun” in such a way that Agron nearly smacked his hand against his head.

“He could have said worse,” he mostly told himself though Nasir was the one who replied.

“He did before we came to Rome.”

“What? Did he tell you not to fuck me?” Agron asked as he looked over at his friend.

“He made me promise.”

Agron laughed. “That little shit. He tried to get me to do the same.”

Nasir’s laugh joined his. Agron finally let himself walk over to Nasir’s bed and he sat down next to him.

“Are you keeping that promise?” he asked.

“He took it back.”

Agron nodded. “How much do you remember?”

Nasir stared at his lap. His legs were folded, close to himself. “A lot, considering how long it’s been…” He looked over at Agron. “Did you break up with me?”

“It worked out, didn’t it? We lived.”

“You were crucified.”

Agron laughed to cover the discomfort that brought. “Yeah, that hurt.” Though it wasn’t the memory of pain that haunted him when he first remembered that but the emotions that came with it. Fear, loss, a knowledge that he failed and would never see Nasir again.

“Two thousand years and you still think you made the right decision.” There was no bitterness in Nasir’s voice, just a hint of amusement and one of frustration.

“Does it matter now?”

“No.” Nasir moved closer to him. “What is this? Fate?”

“I don’t care what it is. I love you.” Agron moved to rest his hand on Nasir’s thigh before thinking better of it, recalling what Nasir had likely remembered in the villa. “We were in love in another life but we’re different now. I love you for who you are, not who you were.”

Nasir didn’t do anything more than watch him for a moment but then his lips curled into a smile before he leaned in. His hand went up to hold the back of Agron’s head as he kissed him.

“I love you, too,” he whispered.

Agron wrapped his arm around him and pulled him close. He kept his grip loose in case Nasir wanted to move away but he went along willingly, pushing even closer than Agron had silently urged him to. Agron was content with that… and then Nasir hooked his leg over him.

“Nasir?”

“Yes?”

Agron pulled back enough to look into Nasir’s face. “Are you sure you want to do this?”

Nasir laughed. “Oh, you think we’ll be doing something?” He trailed his hands down Agron’s shirt, pawing at him through the fabric. He kissed him again for some time, not moving save for the press of his lips.

“Do you want me to buy you dinner first?” Agron asked when the kiss broke.

“No.” Nasir got his hands under Agron’s shirt and pulled it up, moving away so he could lift it over his head. Then his hands went to cup his cheeks before he kissed him.

Agron toyed with the waistband of Nasir’s pants before his hands went up to stroke his back, then stopped.

“You can.” Nasir’s breath ghosted along Agron’s lips as he spoke. “Please.”

Agron didn’t keep track of where his hands moved. Somehow, they knew how to disrobe Nasir since no more than a minute later, both their clothes had been either thrown onto the floor or kicked down to the end of the bed. Agron’s lips were on Nasir’s neck, his hands on his ass. Nasir ground against him until Agron flipped him over and onto his back.

“I don’t--” Agron brought his lips up along Nasir’s throat, tongue darting out to lick him before he nipped just beneath his jaw. “Have any lube.”

Nasir groaned but his next words covered his disappointment. “We don’t need that.”

“No,” Agron kissed down his neck now. He laid his hands on Nasir’s body to keep him still as he moved lower, down to the cock he now had in his hand. “We don’t.”

Nasir, Agron came to learn once his lips wrapped around Nasir’s cock, was a good deal louder in this life than the last. And when he was done, when Nasir had finished his cries, Agron allowed himself to be pinned against the bed. They’d only just finished when their friends returned. Nasir was in the shower, Agron in bed, smiling as he waved lazily at his brother.

 

Nasir wasn’t as sorry as he should be to leave Rome. He could put behind unpleasant memories and choose to embrace the ones he wanted.

Duro and Nasir were supposed to sit next to each other for the flight back but at the last moment Duro handed Agron his ticket and went to take his seat by Spartacus.

“You can rest your head on my shoulder if you get tired.” Agron told Nasir, a grin spread across his face. “Or you can rest your head against it. I’m too tall--”

“You’re not going to get laid when we get back if you keep talking.”

“Really?”

Nasir smiled at him and did, in fact, rest his head against him. He tilted his chin up to look at Agron. “No.”

“Good.” Agron paused and wrapped an arm around Nasir, no matter how awkward it was in the airplane seats and regardless of who might stare at them.

Nasir didn’t say anything for a while. He tried not to think but one concern interrupted his tranquility again and again. “What happens when we go to college?”

Agron didn’t need to ask what he meant and he didn’t need to pause for breath before speaking. “We didn’t lose each other in two thousand years. I’m not going to let you go now.”

Nasir kissed Agron’s shoulder. “I’ll wait for you too.”


End file.
